Thorn
by ezrajade
Summary: **Sequel to X1**Wolverine returns to the school to find a new mutant taking residence there. But he has more to worry about than getting along with the fierce Thorn. Magneto's up to something that endangers them all, especially Thorn. Can they stop him?
1. A New Ally

Disclaimer: Get real. If I owned the X-Men, I wouldn't be writing here. I'd be selling books baby! But seriously folks, no I don't own diddly, though I certainly wouldn't mind owning Wolverine! ; ) Also, I do own the characters Thorn and Arole, so ask permission before you use them or I'll bite you're legs off!  
  
This is my first fanfic, so be gentle! If you have any questions, put them in the review board and I'll make a special post to answer! Thanx! (PS-* * = italics)  
  
Thorn  
  
Scott Summers crept silently through the park, wondering how any field trip could go so wrong. He watched carefully for any signs of Arole, and then almost laughed at himself. *You can't watch for Arole,* He thought derisively *You'll never see him coming.*  
  
Arole was a well-known henchman of Magneto. He had disrupted the fieldtrip of the Xavier's School for the Gifted earlier by 'dropping in'. His ability to make himself blend in with any background made him a dangerous foe and since Magneto's escape, any information they could gather would be helpful.  
  
Scott, a. k. a. Cyclops, saw Jean Gray nearby and nodded to her. She nodded back. They were about to keep moving when they heard a scream.  
  
"Rogue!" Jean whispered. They both dashed towards the scream.  
  
"We found him!" A boy's voice rang out. Scott recognized it as a student's, Bobby, and ran faster. He arrived in the large clearing and relaxed. He had to smile at the scene that greeted him; Arole was glaring at him from inside a prison made of ice.  
  
Scott clapped Bobby on the back "Good work!" He grinned. These students were taught well.  
  
Bobby grinned back "Thanks sir," He said "But I couldn't have done it without the others. Rogue's the one who found him." He nodded in her direction and she blushed.  
  
A woman professor named Storm surveyed Bobby's handiwork. It was a 4-sided room made of walls a foot thick. "I didn't know your power was this strong," She said to Bobby.  
  
"It's not," He explained "I had a lot of help."  
  
"I think the Professor will be very pleased when we get back," Jean smiled.  
  
"You can't keep me here!" Arole's muffled voice interrupted them.  
  
"On the contrary-" Scott started, but was interrupted by a loud cracking noise. Simultaneously, all heads looked up. The noise, accompanied by a rustling, came from a large branch that hung over Arole's cage. An evil smile came to Arole's face. His eyes met Scott's.  
  
"NOOO!!!" Scott yelled, but it was too late to stop him. Arole leapt into the air, pushing off from the walls of Bobby's prison. He grabbed hold off the branch and yanked hard.  
  
The branch broke with the crash of splintering wood. An avalanche of wood and leaves fell, followed closely by something else, rained down on them. The branch dropped onto the ice cage, crumbling 2 of the walls completely. Arole jumped to his feet and hauled something up from the branch. It was a woman, about 20, in worn and dirty clothes. *Homeless,* Scott decided quickly.  
  
"Damn," She gasped. Scott assessed her from where he stood, rigid. She wasn't hurt, though she seemed to be in pain. Arole grabbed both her wrists in one hand and twisted her arms behind her back. He laid his free arm over her throat, just hard enough to be uncomfortable. She writhed and twisted, but he just tightened his grip.  
  
"What about now Cyclops?" He leered.  
  
"Leave her alone Arole!" Scott shouted, "What has she ever done to you?"  
  
"Nothing," He considered "At least not yet. One day, she and the other non-mutants will lead a war on us, all of us. Whether we're 'good', or not. What will you do then?" His voice had risen so all the mutants could hear his speech. "And as for now, well, if you don't let me leave, she'll pay." His hand tightened and he wrenched her arm unpleasantly. The woman jerked her head against the pain.  
  
Rogue carefully watched the woman's face, almost oblivious of what was happening around her. The captive's eyes burned, not in fear, but in anger. Hatred flushed her cheeks and her eyes slowly slid out of focus.  
  
"Scott." Rogue whispered.  
  
"Not now Rogue," He said, brushing her aside.  
  
He, like Arole, didn't notice as the plants around the clearing began to act strangely. Tree leaves trembled, bushes shivered, and the grass shuddered in one collective wave.  
  
"So Cyclops-" Arole began. He broke off, startled. He stared down at his legs, and tried to move them. He found he was stuck fast by the grass around his feet, which had grown, unnoticed up his legs, twining into thick green ropes. He snapped his head up and glared at the group in front of him. "Which one of you is doing this?" He demanded in alarm.  
  
"None of us have that power Arole," Jean said calmly "I have no idea who is doing it."  
  
"I know you are doing this!" He cried in panic. He was cut short by a noose made of vines that fell from a tree to snake around his neck. He let go of his hostage and grabbed the vine, vainly trying to loosen it. The women dived away from him, but instead of running, she straightened up triumphantly before him.  
  
"Scott," Rogue said more urgently "*She's*the one doing this!"  
  
Arole grappled with the vine weakly, gurgling. The woman stared defiantly at him. "How does it feel to be the captive?" She whispered " To be helpless? Let's see how many more innocent people you hurt after I'm though with you-"  
  
"STOP!"  
  
The mutant whirled to stare at a morbid Rogue. "You're killing him!" Rogue cried.  
  
The woman's intense gaze swept Rogue's face. There was a moment of silence, interrupted only by Arole's gasps before she shifted her attention suddenly back to her prisoner. The class watched silently as the noose loosened and split to lock together his wrists and already bound feet. The adult mutants rushed forward to apprehend Arole, but the plant mutant stood motionless. Abruptly, she strode briskly away into the forest.  
  
"Wait!" Storm called after her. Storm looked to Scott. He nodded and she took off.  
  
"Jean," Scott said, "Can you take care of this?" She nodded and Scott followed Storm.  
  
He and Storm were fast, but the woman was faster. She sprinted around trees and leaped over rocks and logs like a deer. Besides the fact that her followers weren't as used to the terrain as she was, they had to face obstacles, such as quickly growing thorn bushes and trees. Scott blasted them out of the way, but they still lost time. Finally, they came to the edge of the woods. The 2 mutants could see their quarry climbing the bank to decrepit old barn. She paused and flung her arm out as if throwing something. Then she disappeared into the barn. As Scott came closer, he could see an ever-rising wall of thorns that guarded the barn. He slowed down and stared. No way they were getting through that. He shook his head at Storm.  
  
"Let's go home," He panted.  
  
~ * * * ~  
  
Several hours later, the three mutants stood in the office of Professor Charles Xavier. He listened calmly as they gave an account of what had happened that morning, leaving no details.  
  
"So sir," Scott finished "I really think we should be thankful to the students today. They not only caught Arole, but worked together and stayed calm."  
  
"Yes," The Professor said softly "And to this girl."  
  
"Pardon me?" Ororo, or Storm, asked.  
  
"We should be thankful to this girl, whoever she is," He explained, "For catching Arole." None of them replied. He looked up sharply "You said she was homeless?"  
  
"Yes," Scott answered, "We believe she's living in an old barn."  
  
"Very well," Xavier nodded "You shall go to the girl and offer her the chance to come here, to stay if she wishes."  
  
"Sir," Scott asked hesitantly "Is that wise? I mean, she's over the age of the other students and seems fine on her own."  
  
"In other situations, your assumption would be true,' the professor said gravely "But in these times." He shook his head sadly and turned his wheel chair to look out the window at the students below. "We must do everything we can to keep her from Magneto."  
  
He said nothing else, and Jean didn't need to be psychic to tell he wished to be alone. She signaled to the others and they silently left the room. "Ah Eric," Charles murmured to himself "What have we come to?"  
  
  
  
One week later, a week full of tracking and research, Scott, Ororo, and Jean climbed from a very ordinary looking car, squinting against the fierce glare of the sun.  
  
"Oh my," Ororo said softly. From what they could see, they had arrived in a veritable Garden of Eden. A flourishing vegetable garden took up the whole area in front of the old and crumbling barn, and behind it was a large orchard. The lush grass was full of flowers, which seemed to be everywhere. As the team ascended the barn's bank, they could see a pond and a small shed off to one side. When they reached the barn door, Scott raised his arm to stop the others. A thick curtain of ivy covered the whole front of the building.  
  
"Hello?" He called "Anyone home?" There was no answer, so the 3 pushed their way through the ivy into the barn. It was old and smelled musty, which was probably because of the piles of old straw on the one side of the barn. The other had a decaying cage made of fence and wire. From the rafters, bags of flour with huge rips that spilled out the white flour hung down and a ladder that led up to a loft. Scott climbed it carefully and beckoned to the others.  
  
"Look at this!" He called. They followed and found themselves on a loft rid of straw, but full of plants. Ferns and climbing plants hung from the walls and grass and moss covered the wooden floor slats. One bed of moss was a foot thick and had a pillow resting on it.  
  
"Looks comfy," Jean smiled.  
  
Ororo climbed down while the others inspected the loft. She strode to the door and peered through the ivy. "Scott, Jean!" She said loudly "Come here!"  
  
They descended the ladder and joined her. "I think I found our girl," She whispered, pointing to the garden. A tall, thin figure appeared from the shed and walked briskly towards the garden.  
  
"Let's go," Scott said.  
  
They exited the barn and slid down the rain-slicked bank. "Wait!" Scott called "Hold on! We want to talk to you!"  
  
The mutant stopped and looked back at them. She groaned loudly "Not you people! Don't you ever give up?" She asked, before continuing on her way.  
  
"We're notorious for our stubbornness," Jean informed her dryly.  
  
The woman snorted derisively.  
  
"We were sent by Professor Charles Xavier," Ororo informed her "We've come to thank you."  
  
The woman stopped "You were sent by Professor Charles Xavier?" She repeated critically.  
  
"Yes," Ororo said, "Do you know him?"  
  
"Nope," She shrugged, kneeling next to a bed of squash and carefully beginning to prune away the dead vines "I've never heard of him," Scott shot the others an exasperated look. Jean couldn't help but smile; the woman reminded her of someone, but though she wasn't sure who.  
  
"So what do you want to thank me for?" The gardener asked without looking up.  
  
"For catching Arole," Logan told her "He is an associate of Magneto, an enemy of ours."  
  
"Glad to help," She replied sardonically. She straightened up and walked to a pile of compost and tossing in the withered vines. Jean studied her as she would a patient. Today she wore a dirt-stained white tank top, which revealed a tattoo on her left arm, right below the shoulder. It was a dagger with what looked to be a thorn- studded vine wrapped around it. Her curly brown hair was pulled back to reveal she wore one earring, though it was hard to tell what it was: a snake maybe? She had an odd half-smile on her face, her lip curled slightly in the corner, her eyebrow raised faintly; a vaguely amused expression that made Jean feel like she was silently laughing at some inside joke. The girl was more that slender; she was almost bony. Jean could also detect a slight limp in her left leg.  
  
Meanwhile, Ororo was trying a different tactic. "My name is Ororo Munroe, also called Storm. This is Scott Summers, otherwise known as Cyclopes, and Dr. Jean Grey," She gestured to each person as she introduced them. Then Ororo held out a hand for her to shake.  
  
The girl straightened and ignored the hand "Thorn," She informed them shortly before returning to her work. They followed her as she walked towards the garden.  
  
"Thorn?" Scott repeated, "What kind of name is that?"  
  
Ororo glared at him "What Scott means is: what's your real name?"  
  
Thorn stopped. She slowly turned to look at them and stared into Scott's visor. "I have no name," She informed them in a dangerously soft voice; she was one of the few people to stare Scott down.  
  
Jean cleared her throat. Apparently they had touched a nerve. Scott stared after the woman with a look of surprise on his face. "We've also come to invite you to our school for the gifted."  
  
"You mean for mutants," Came the muffled reply from inside a jungle beans and pumpkins.  
  
"Yes," Jean admitted.  
  
"I'll have to decline your offer." The woman said, exiting the greenery.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Thorn shrugged "I'm perfectly happy here-Why move?"  
  
"You could just come for a visit." Ororo started.  
  
"Sorry, but again.No."  
  
"If your sure," Scott said, regaining his composure "But if you change your mind-" He handed her a card "Call us."  
  
"Thanks," The woman said, watching them leave. She returned to her pruning and the X-men had almost reached their car when they heard her cry out.  
  
"In the name of Kima!" She screamed. They rushed back to see her stumble out of the garden, horrified.  
  
"What's a Kima?" Scott asked swiftly.  
  
"In some cultures, Kima was the goddess of the earth and farmers' patron goddess," Storm explained.  
  
They had reached the woman. Scott grabbed her and steadied her "What's wrong?" He cried, but she just pointed. He realized after a moment that one of the pumpkin leaves was moving. *No wait,* He thought, *there were thousands of bugs were crawling across the surface!* Unsure of her horror he carefully comforted her "They're just bugs" He said gently "I'll buy ya a can of Raid."  
  
"No," She whispered "They're not; they wouldn't be able to get in. This isn't supposed to *happen*!" She cried, angry and horrified at the same time.  
  
"Look," Scott assured her "They're normal, I'll show you." He raised a hand to his glasses and blasted one of the bugs.  
  
Blue goo squirted everywhere. Jean jumped back and saw to her surprise that the back end of the bug was gone, but the front was still trying to walk. She leaned closer. "Wait," She said, "That's a microchip!" She looked back at the others. "These bugs aren't normal," She told them gravely, "These bugs are nanobites."  
  
~ * * * ~  
  
"These 'bugs' are very cleverly made nanobites," Jean explained "They are a mixture of machine and living organisms. While the procedure is not unheard of, it is rare."  
  
"So these things were sent intentionally?" Thorn said from her chair. She was sitting in the professor's office, along with Ororo, Scott, Jean, and Professor Xavier. They were studying blow-ups of the samples Jean had collected and listening to her analysis.  
  
"Yes." Jean said after a pause.  
  
Scott cast a fleeting glance at Thorn. Her face had a look of suppressed anger; the same look she'd had the last few days since they'd convinced her to come with them to the school. Her uptight nervousness unsettled him; she always seemed so calm and cool otherwise. He looked at her hands; she was clutching the armrests tightly. Scott glanced back at the professor. He seemed a little concerned.  
  
"Why?" Thorn said angrily "I didn't do anything to anybody!"  
  
"Actually," Xavier said calmly, wheeling himself forward "You did."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"I'm sure you remember Arole," He said "He was an accomplice of Magneto's. We were able to catch him because of you. I'm sure Eric was seeing you as a problem and wanted revenge."  
  
"Whose this Magneto-," Thorn started, but the professor cut her off before she could finish with an unsavory adjective.  
  
"Magneto is an enemy of ours, a powerful mutant who believes that there will one day be a war between mutants and non-mutants. He has many accomplices and the power to control metal, " Xavier explained.  
  
"So why hasn't anyone done anything about him?" Thorn demanded.  
  
"We have," Scott said, "He escaped."  
  
"Good job," She replied sarcastically.  
  
Xavier ignored Scott's look and continued, "We understand you've been through a lot. But, if you'll consent, we'd like to begin transferring you're plants immediately."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Judging from the data Dr. Gray has collected, it's next to impossible to stop them, so I thought maybe we could bring your plants here and construct a garden or a greenhouse for you, where you'd be safer."  
  
Jean looked with concern at the Thorn, who was barely a woman, dealing with so much. What had happened to her? Why did she live alone? She was so angry and sad at the same time. Thorn took a deep breath and began talking in a trembling voice, but from anger or sadness, Jean couldn't tell.  
  
"It took me 5 years to create a home for myself," She said quietly, more to herself than to them "It was my everything. He's gonna pay for this." She was gripping the arms of her chair so hard her knuckles were white and, suddenly, a potted fern on the window ledge burst. Shards of clay went spinning as the roots grew wildly, causing everyone to shield themselves with their arms, or in Jean's cause, Scott. Thorn stood up unflinching and faced Xavier calmly.  
  
"OK, I'll stay."  
  
~ * * * ~  
  
So whadda ya think? Please reply! Next post soon!  
  
~Ezra~ 


	2. Homecoming

Disclaimer: Yeah, that's right, I don't own *diddlysquat* so just leave me alone! (Though I'm hoping I'll own the special extended edition DVD X-Men soon!) Ahem:: anyway, I am extremely protective of Thorn and will hunt you down and do, er, something, if you use her without asking permission!  
  
Author's Note: So sorry I took so long but a certain sibling ::suspicious cough:: has been hogging the internet. This chapter was much longer than I planned, so Logan and Thorn's meeting comes later. insert demented giggle Rigghhtttt. . .Replies are very, very welcome, as are E-Mails, AIM, and requests to check out other stories! Please, please, will someone inform me how to use italics when I post? Thanx so much! {*.* still means italics and _._ either are thoughts or underline.}  
  
...........  
  
Logan stared up at the building he hadn't seen in 6 months as he swung his leg over the motorcycle, leaning it on its stand. He walked forward; amazed that it seemed so unchanged when it felt like he'd been gone so long. He allowed himself a small smile before shoving open the door and walking in.  
  
Eerie echoes of children's voices reverberated through the halls, accompanied by the sound of his quiet footsteps. He took the steps up the Professor's office, though he wasn't sure why he bothered going, since Xavier probably already knew he was there. He paused before pushing the door open.  
  
Professor Xavier was waiting for him. "Logan!" He said calmly, "Welcome home! This is a pleasant surprise."  
  
"I'm sure," Logan replied dryly, while mentally repeating the word. _Home?_  
  
"Did you find anything?" The professor inquired, wheeling his chair around his desk.  
  
"Yeah," Logan said absently, glancing around the room as though to change the subject "What happened to your plant?"  
  
"I forgot to water it," Xavier answered genially, without even looking back at the huge, dying fern. "Perhaps you'd like to schedule a talk with Dr. Gray?"  
  
Logan could barely keep a grin from his face. "Sure," He shrugged nonchalantly "When?"  
  
"Now?" Xavier suggested.  
  
"Whatever is good for you," Logan said, successfully, as always, hiding his inner emotions.  
  
"I believe Jean is in her office. I trust you remember where it is?" Xavier remarked, knowing the answer.  
  
Logan nodded and wondered absently if Xavier just asked questions to be polite.  
  
"I hope to be seeing you around the school more often," Xavier said sincerely "Perhaps you might even consider teaching a class, like self defense."  
  
Logan raised an eyebrow. The chances of that happening were slim to none. Well, maybe if he could use One-Eye as a demonstration dummy. It would be the perfect job for Scott; it was how he acted anyway.  
  
"See ya around Chuck," Logan said gruffly. Xavier smiled in an almost fond way and Logan realized with a start that Xavier really was glad to have him back. Whoa, that was a weird feeling. He walked back down the hall, inspecting the place as he went. He reminisced thoughtfully as he strode through the school, wondering if his comrades had changed as much as he had.  
  
He arrived at his destination, mentally steeling himself before he opened the door to see the woman he had been missing the most for almost six months. Well, almost the most.  
  
The door opened with a slight creak, betraying Logan's presence. Jean looked up absentmindedly from the paperwork she was skimming over on her desk. She stared at Logan for a moment, as though her mind was not quite registering that he really was there. Her glasses slipped down her nose in astonishment and Logan couldn't help but think about how beautiful she was.  
  
"Logan!" She greeted, taken aback, and Logan considered yet again how odd it was that everyone was actually happy to see him. She rose smoothly from the desk and embraced him warmly. Logan stiffened as she hugged him, but was disappointed to find only friendship there. He awkwardly returned the embrace and she backed away to regard him.  
  
"You look good," She said with a smile.  
  
"So do you," he said truthfully, watching her as she returned to her seat. "How's One-, er, Scott?" He asked.  
  
She smiled affectionately "Still furious about the bike."  
  
"So you two are still . . ." Logan trailed off uncertainly, leaving the words hanging in the air.  
  
"Yes."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence, which was finally broken by Jean. "How was your trip?"  
  
"Fine," He answered, avoiding the real question she was asking. She wanted to know if he'd found any answers. The truth was yes, he'd found his past, or at least part of it, and it hadn't done him any good.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
His thoughts went back to that day in a remote part of Canada, when he'd located the abandoned military compound. It didn't look very remarkable; just a small, snowy building in the middle of a clearing. Logan clearly remembered clearing the snowdrifts out from in front of the door before managing to heave it open. When he finally did so he was so shocked, he just stood in the doorway, staring at the inner building.  
  
If a tornado had ripped through the compound, it couldn't have looked much worse.  
  
Dirt and leaves mingled with rotting paper and mangled equipment. Thick layers of dust settled on every imaginable surface and the air smelled strongly of the wilderness and animals; Logan could barely detect the scent of human. The whole place looked as though no one had been there in over a decade.  
  
He entered warily, glaring suspiciously at every shadow. He entered the main room of the compound and saw something out of the corner of his eye. His heart stopped.  
  
Logan slowly turned, running his hand along the wall. Three gashes sliced through the metal, as if some primitive beast had vented his wrath on the cold steel. He slid his claws from their sheath of bone and set them into the gashes. A perfect match.  
  
Feeling light headed, Logan returned the blades to his hand and continued through the room. Okay, obviously, he'd been here before- sometime out of his memories reach. He studied the mess more closely now, spotting signs of struggle. His stomach turned as he spotted a bleached skeleton lying in one corner. Had he killed that person? Had he done *all* of this?  
  
The whole place gave him the creeps. It was like walking through an echo of his nightmares, a cruelly twisted version created to torture him. He spotted the glass cylinder from his dreams, the one "they" had put him in while operating. The glass was smashed, but the strong smell of the chemical stored inside was still clear.  
  
He turned a corner and noticed a small room that was really more of a cell. The front wall was one-way glass, so the scientists could observe the patient without him seeing them. It was thick Plexiglas, and should have been impossible to penetrate. Yet there was a large hole cut through it, one that Logan guessed only a metal like admantium could make.  
  
Logan felt sick from rage and an emotion he couldn't describe. Was it remorse? He couldn't be sure, but he was revolted at what crimes he had committed in his animalistic rage. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if he could remember why, or when, but his memory was a blank. Somewhere, a voice in his head whispered the crimes "they" had perpetrated were worse; he had just been lashing out in self- defense.  
  
While these conflicting thoughts raced through his mind, Logan stared at the cot still resting in the center of the cell. Suddenly, a flashback invaded his abstraction.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
A younger Logan found himself waking slowly on a cot. The mirror that was his wall showed his face to be clean-shaven and markings, sketches, ran all over his body. Then he became aware of the horrible pain in his left arm.  
  
His arm, it was on fire! The pain was practically mind numbing, while still managing keep him in complete agony. Deep cuts, revealing bone, traced up and down his limb in a fatal symmetry. Glints of metal could be faintly glimpsed as the wounds began to close. He stared, filled with terrified fascination, at the muscle knitting itself together. But even as the gash repaired itself, the pain lingered. Not as potent perhaps, but still lying just beneath his skin. He stood unsteadily, staggering towards the mirror. He knew they were watching. They came after each part of the surgery, admiring their handiwork, fueled by their sick minds. Sometimes they'd leave him in the vat when they had finished, letting the stasis fluid suspend his healing factor while they celebrated.  
  
But Logan knew something they didn't. When they finished the surgery, they would have no way to control him. They had created the perfect weapon, but they never considered how to protect themselves from it. He, the Wolverine, was going to make them pay.  
  
He stared disquietingly into the depths of the mirror, then turned and paced back to his cot. He tested his new claws. A faint pain sliced through his knuckles, but next to the surgery, it felt like splinters in his flesh. One more surgery, his right arm, and he'd be done. They'd be done.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Logan came back to reality with a start. That had to have been the strongest memory he'd ever had. He stared at his hands, then at the mirror. The recollection of that horrid pain washed away his feelings of remorse. Those twisted versions of men deserved death, and he was the one who gave it to them. So be it.  
  
Wandering a little further, he inspected the battered equipment. Noticing a modem that looked better off than the others, he pushed the power button experimentally. To his utter astonishment, the computer hummed weakly and lit up. It took a long time to load and even Logan, who was no computer nerd, could tell it was on its last leg. He clicked on the icon that appeared on the screen, waiting intolerantly while it loaded. Patience simply wasn't his style.  
  
Finally, the document loaded. It was a voice recording, done by the lead scientist on the project. Logan pressed the play button and waited.  
  
". . . Log number 11043. My name is Jayce Grimmley, the leading doctor on the X Project. We will be completing the last of the surgeries today, the coating of the right arm with adamantium. According to Will's instructions, we've added extensions to his claws and. . ."  
  
Wolverines mind spun. Extensions? They were supposed to have *given* him his claws, not reinforced them!  
  
"The patient is recuperating amazingly well, much better than we foresaw. In fact, he's been steadily building up an immunity to the tranquilizers. If we increase the doses any further, the injections could become lethal.  
  
The patient has a long history of violent behavior and I'm beginning to worry about his temperament affecting the outcome of this experiment. I warned Stryker about his choosing of this subject, but he wanted the job done fast; apparently he has a very important opp worked up for the mutant and didn't want to waste time trying to find another mutant with healing factors. I'm beginning to think that mission will never be accomplished.  
  
A chill ran up Logan's spine as the truth of these words hit home.  
  
"The subject, code named Wolverine, has begun to lash out in random acts of violence. He wounded one of my assistants almost to death in one attack and badly mutilated a guard in another. I have no idea how Will intends to contain Wolverine, but our prison won't hold him much longer."  
  
The voice paused and Logan detected a trace of bitterness... and fear.  
  
"Well, to end my brief, and possibly last, log report, I have saved all the information we've obtained in this master computer. No backups, no discs. The material's too dangerous for enemies to get a hang of. I-"  
  
Loud sounds and crashes could be heard in the background of the recording. Grimmley broke off as a siren started.  
  
"Damit, it's another attack. I'll be submitting another report tomorrow. . . If I can."  
  
The recording stopped, leaving Logan to stare at the screen. So many unanswered questions. . .  
  
Logan, as I stated above, was no computer ace. What he needed now was that friend of Rogue's, what was her name, uh, Kitty. Too bad she was hundreds of miles away. Oh well, he'd just have to guess his way through this.  
  
He figured that the rapidly dying computer had enough power to complete one search at most. So what did he look up-his personal file, or this Stryker guy? Growling with frustration, he let his fingers hover over the keypad for a moment before typing in a name- Wolverine.  
  
The computer hummed tunelessly for a moment before a link popped up.  
  
_*PROJECT X-codename Wolverine*_  
  
With slightly trembling fingers, Logan clicked on the file. For a moment, nothing happened. Finally, words popped up, black among an endless white background. Logan read hastily.  
  
_*Experiment subject Logan, first identified in the early Vietnam War-*_  
  
Logan didn't even finish reading the first sentence before the computer gave one last, dying wheeze and the screen blipped to eternity. Logan stared, disbelieving at the blank screen.  
  
No. No, no, no,nonono*NO!*  
  
With a cry of rage, Logan flexed his hands, slashing the equipment to pieces. Gone, the key to his past! Venting his wrath upon the already-expired mechanics, he glared about him, his eyesight tinted slightly red. What had he done to deserve this?  
  
Logan left the compound after assuring himself there was nothing on his past still inside. He revved the bike and took off at an impossible speed, feeling utterly reckless. He didn't have a past, a home, even a name really; only what they had given him. But wait, he did have a home-or at least one that would suffice. He remembered clearly those last words-"We'll be here, if you need us." He sighed. Oh hell, not like he had anything better to do.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Logan felt the flashback ebb away gently, leaving him staring across a desk at the lovely redhead. She was still wearing that concerned look and Logan realized, with relief, that she hadn't read his mind. She seemed to recognize the look on his face and stayed silent for a moment.  
  
"Look, Logan, I know you've probably been through a lot these past months, but I understand *completely*," She paused, letting the words sink in "If now isn't the right moment to tell us what happened."  
  
Logan considered this. If he hadn't known better, he would have decided that this judgment came from her physic ability to read his emotions, but he knew otherwise. It was simply good, old-fashioned womanly intuition.  
  
He nodded "Yeah," He agreed "That'd be great."  
  
She smiled warmly at him and he felt his pulse quicken slightly. "Logan, we really are glad to have you back," She told him kindly.  
  
_Glad to be back darlin_', He thought silently.  
  
She walked with him down the hall, chatting softly about everything that had happened when he was gone. He was only half listening, really. When they reached their destination, she stopped.  
  
"You can walk around the grounds a bit; see what's changed for yourself," She said with a mysterious smile. Logan detected she wasn't telling him everything, but decided to keep the suspicion to himself.  
  
"Thanks Red," he said softly. She waved as he started down the steps.  
  
"Be careful Logan!" She called after him.  
  
Careful? What was that supposed to mean? Like there was anything on the grounds he had to worry about.  
  
If only he knew. . .  
  
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There it is! Please hit that widdle button dat says "Submit Review" so I won't haf ta sic Wulfe on you. Ohhh. . . . long story there. . . .  
  
Coming soon: _Hostile Meetings._ 


	3. Hostile Meetings

Disclaimer: As mention in the former chapter, I own nothin'. NO- THING. So don't bother me. Actually though, that's not entirely true. I do own the character Thorn and this plotline, so ask before archiving or stealing, and I also own a jug of fermented cider. Insert insane grin  
  
Author's Note: Finally! It's here! Sorry this chapter took so long, but hey, cut me break, it's pretty long. I'm kinda proud of it, actually. Came out better than I expected. Anywho . . .I'd like to send a special thank-you out to my math teacher, who, besides being the coolest teacher ever, lent me his copy of Wolverine: Origin (which is freakin awesome!!!!) The next chapter is one of my favorites, so be looking out for it in about a month! Happy readings!  
  
*hey* = italics  
  
_hey_ = thoughts  
  
hey = psychic messages.  
  
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Logan retraced his steps down the passage, turning this time to leave through the back door. He paused in the doorway, surveying the grounds, greeting the open air. It was something 'Roro and him had in common- the both loved the open air and wilderness. He decided that maybe a walk later on would help calm his frazzled nerves and ease this restlessness that had plagued him since his visit to the compound.  
No sooner had this thought entered his mind then he noticed a flare of light; sunbeams reflecting off glass, probably. Thing was, he didn't remember glass big enough to give off that kinda light out here.  
Warily, he made his way toward the source of the flash, a place he remembered being a clearing, surrounded by a copse of trees, which bordered the outer walls of the school. But as he was to find out, that had all changed.  
  
Logan was assailed by unfamiliar smells, mostly a strange, earth smell that was a mix of flower, pollen, and the musty smell of dirt. As he came in view of the "clearing", he paused, taken aback.  
  
The clearing was no more. In its place was a vast beautiful garden, containing plants of all shapes and sizes. A line of young fruit and ornamental trees spread their leafy shade over the rows. Off to the right of the garden was a large greenhouse, its clear, spotless windows slightly fogged with the perspiration caused by the inner heat and the balmy spring air.  
  
Still surprised, Logan walked down the center path, impressed in spite of himself. He was certainly no botanist, but even a blind man could've told you these were truly magnificent specimens of vegetation. Homely tomato plants and corn stalks grew next to exquisite petunias and stunning hibiscus, as if displaying a defiant harmony all their own. Even more, these plants seemed.alive.almost sentient.  
  
Logan hesitated on the path, a simple grass strip that separated the rows into halves and branched off to split into smaller paths that crossed between the rows themselves. He knew this wasn't a trap, but he had no inkling of what it was. It wasn't like Chuck to simply decide to build a garden for no reason. Logan knew Storm liked her plants, but this was too elaborate for her tastes.  
  
He continued his stroll down the path, admiring the greenery as he went. As Logan reached the last of the rows, he realized he had truly found the soul of the garden.  
  
Roses.  
  
Huge, amazing rose bushes that seemed flawless in every aspect. He spotted a bush that bowed under the weight of blooms a little smaller than dinner plates. Another plant held sprinklings of tiny pink and white roses, some tinier than a normal roses petal. Astounded in spite of himself, he gazed at the flowers. As his eyes followed the flower line to the last plant in the row, where he found the piece d'resistance.  
  
The snowy white rose stood out against the other, darker colored blooms, an embodiment of grace and perfection. It was as stunning as the others, but in a simpler way that made it all the more appealing.  
  
Logan regarded it, considering a sudden impulse. Woman like roses...Jean was a woman [a/n: Wow... he's a quick one ain't he...]. Plus, it'd really piss Scotty-boy off. He glanced around, checking to make sure no one was watching. Then he swiftly bent down, reaching to pluck the rose neatly from its stem.  
  
Things didn't quite work out as he planned.  
  
Logan couldn't hold back a slight jump of shock as the vine, well, grabbed him. Several thorn-studded vines twisted themselves around his wrists, yanking him forward and forcing him to crouch on his haunches. The plants wrapped tight, ripping his skin in a hundred different scratches.  
  
Logan gritted his teeth. Of course, the wounds healed immediately, but dammit, it *hurt*! Besides, healing only made it worse, since the miniscule injuries ripped open once again.  
  
Vainly, Logan tried to unravel the vines, but merely managed to make it worse. Cursing, he cast a glare of pure death at the inch long thorns, noting for the first time their abnormally large size. Their lived green color was now tinted red with his blood, making him all the more livid.  
  
Logan could see he was left with only one option; that is unless he wanted to stay there until someone came waltzing along. Besides the fact he had no idea how long that might take, he was extremely aware of how stupid he looked right now. And the Wolverine despised looking stupid.  
  
Reluctantly, Logan glanced around guiltily, making sure for the last time the coast was clear. Then, carefully, he slid one shining blade from it's housing in his forearm and raised it above the sinewy green rope, preparing to..  
  
"What the *hell* do you think you're doing?!?" An angry voice demanded from behind him.  
  
Logan jumped, barely avoiding slashing himself. He sheathed his claw, and by instinct, tried to stand to face the intruder. The vine, of course, yanked him back down. He was forced to be satisfied with groveling in a half crouch, unable to face his potential enemy. He growled angrily, wondering how the hell he owner of the voice had been able to sneak up on him. Only smell he could discern was that weird earth smell...oh...right...unfamiliar scent, unfamiliar person.  
  
The stranger saved him the trouble of further speculation by circling around to stand to his right, allowing him a glimpse of his rescuer..._or attacker_, he considered darkly.  
  
The voice belonged to a she, he noticed immediately. And she was giving him a glare of pure death.  
  
She was to say the least a bit, er, perturbed. Her hands were on her overly-thin hips, her emerald-bright eyes practically shooting sparks as she surveyed the scene. Her golden tanned skin bore a tracery of scars, thin ones, almost invisible, but to him, plain as day. Her auburn hair frizzed out from the heat, reminiscent of the brown moss familiar to Canada. Her throat was an odd shade of red, like she had a welt or had been burned badly in the past. She favored her right leg, he noticed subtlety, but it didn't seem to bother her unduly.  
  
She might have been fairly good-looking, if she tried, but Logan had a feeling she couldn't care less.  
  
Seeing that he wasn't going to answer her question, the woman tried again. "I *asked* you what you were doing," The woman reiterated icily.  
  
"What's it *look* like I'm doing?" Logan asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.  
  
"Honestly? Looks like you're mauling my plants." She replied. Nope, defiantly not a happy camper.  
  
Anger boiled abruptly inside Logan "Me? Mauling *your* plants? Lady, your plants are the hostile offenders here, not me." _For once_, a nasty little voice added in his head.  
  
_Shut up!_  
  
The woman crossed her hands over her chest, a smug look crossing her face. "Oh, did da poor widdle man get hurt by da nasty woses?" She asked with an impudently smirk.  
  
Logan growled "Look darlin', you're lucky these things are holding me down or I'll-"  
  
"You'll what?"  
  
Silence fell over the garden as they glared at each other. Logan could smell the very tension and anger rolling off her; it was palpable. Amidst the stifled onslaught, the nearly forgotten plant around Logan's wrist gave him a vicious reminder of where he was. _On the ground. Beaten by a flower. _That nasty little voice supplemented.  
  
The woman saw Logan wince and blinked, perplexed, as if waking from a daydream. She glanced up at the sun, just beginning to set, her eyes searching for something in the streaks of colors that painted the sky. The reddish tint of the fiery globe reflected on her face, casting a ruddy glow over her features, so serene, so calm. Logan never knew if she found what she was searching for that day, but she regained her composure. She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, making it stand up worse than ever, adding to the illusion of dark moss gently draping her scalp. She knelt in a single smooth movement, offering a murmured apology. She muttered under her breath, something about the plants feeding off her negative emotions and becoming increasingly violent. Logan took this explanation for what it was worth, trying to ignore how strange it sounded. _Hey, you've got knives that come out of your knuckles, remember? _ He reminded himself.  
  
The reminder was a painful one, but it brought him back to earth. Still wary of his 'rescuer', he took the chance to study her further as she aided him.  
  
Her brows furrowed in concentration as she leaned forward, gently prying each twist and knot free of his wrist. She was beyond lean, almost emaciated, although she carried the air of one whose been treated better in recent times, and was filling out well. She was tall, over the age of 20 and still growing, he guessed. Worry lines were present near her eyes, far too many for someone her age, and her skin was a golden tan, obviously sun and weather beaten. The shoulder facing him was decorated with a tattoo of a dagger with a thorny vine, much like the one currently wrapped around his wrist, twirled around it. There was some sort of inscription on the blade, Latin by the looks of it. Only one of her ears were pierced, the one above her opposite shoulder and Logan, watching the fading sunlight dart across it, judged it to be similar to her body art; a twisting vine or perhaps even a snake.  
  
"Nice tattoo." Logan approved grudgingly. The woman accepted the complement with a nod, causing the silver earring to swing in small circles. She leaned back on her heals, brushing her palms together in a satisfied way.  
  
"All done," She announced proudly. Logan, surprised, glanced at his wrist and saw that the vines were indeed gone, and was even more astounded to realize she had removed them without him noticing.  
  
The young woman, seeing he was making any move to thank her or go away, reached forward with a sigh, seizing his hand and pulling it towards her. Her grip was not ungentle, belaying her seemingly hostile nature as she turned it over.  
  
"I'll have to get water and a bandage for this--" She stopped, uncertain, when she noticed that underneath the dried blood lacing his skin, his flesh was virtually unbroken. Her mouth opened, then shut, as she managed to stutter "How'd you...where'd it...no one's gotten away from the snowy without marks to prove it..." The thin scars tracing her own arms stood testament to this statement. _Jeez.....and this thing actually seems to like *her*..._  
  
Before she could ponder this occurrence further (and things could really get awkward) they were interrupted.  
  
"Thorn...are you here?" A nervous voice called, breaking the still spring air. The woman's head snapped up and she rose quickly to her feet. Logan stayed where he was, allowing himself a small smile. He'd been meaning to talk to the owner of that voice later...  
  
The woman (_Her name's Thorn_ he corrected himself _Real fitting to her personality_) smiled in a non-threatening way as she faced the newcomer.  
  
"Hey...uh, Rogue, right?" She greeted.  
  
"Yeah," The teenage girl said somewhat shyly, brushing a strand of white hair from her face. Two snowy streaks stood out in her auburn hair, framing her face as she stared about her. "Sorry ta bother you, but Ah was just wonderin'--" Just then Logan decided to make his presence known. He stood with languid ease, facing the two girls.  
  
Rouge's eyes widened as she saw him, her lips parting in surprise. "L-Logan?" She asked in a voice little more than a whisper.  
  
"Hey kid," He said softly.  
  
Rogue still seemed to be slightly in shock, but she walked up to him, reaching around her neck with trembling hands. She looked as though she wanted to throw those arms around his neck, but restrained herself with obvious disappointment. Instead, she unhooked a pair of dog tags, handing them to him shyly.  
  
"These are yours," She said. Thorn, who had stepped off to the side, watched the ordeal with a mild interest, arms crossed over her chest. She craned her neck slightly to read the metal tags.  
  
Wolverine.  
  
_Suitable name_ She reflected wryly _Seems to have the lovely temper of his namesake_  
  
Logan seemed faintly surprised "You still wear them?" He asked incredulously.  
  
Rogue looked embarrassed "Uh, yeah..."  
  
Thorn, somewhat bored, tuned out the conversation. It seemed pretty personal and she had never been one to pry in others affairs. She turned her attention to the earth, cherishing the gentle breeze and sunlight in her face. She noted the wind direction and judged the time by the sun's position in the sky. About 6:30, she'd guess. She wriggled her toes in the damp soil, feeling the grass sway to the wind's gentle caress. She felt so at home here, in the wild. She missed her home so much, but the duties of caring for her plants kept her occupied. It'd been a month since they'd moved her here, salvaging all the plants they could, packing her meager belongings, and moving out. She was astonished at the kindness displayed by these people, who had replanted her whole garden, doing so while putting up with her more than a little particular tastes, and even building her a beautiful greenhouse. They were warm and caring, and, despite her lack of human contact (and people skills), had grown on even her. Even that trickster, Bobby.  
  
The thought of the kids made a smile come to her face, though it was quickly replaced by a faint frown. There was a tremor rippling through the blades of grass, against the wind. Thorn crouched to the ground, laying the more sensitive skin of her palm lightly on the earth. Yep, definitely a disturbance there. She glanced over at her visitors, but they seemed too absorbed in their conversations to notice anything. She declined to interrupt them and turned instead to face the western edge of her garden, which, incidentally, was towards the school.  
  
It was a few seconds before Logan caught a scent on the relatively calm air. He turned to Thorn, only to see her staring absently in the direction the scent was coming from.  
  
"Someone's coming," He informed her gruffly.  
  
"I know," She answered vaguely.  
  
"What do you mean, 'you know'?" He repeated suspiciously. Before she could answer, the object of their discussion burst into the garden. The 'someone' was obviously one of the students, a tall and well-built young man. He seemed to have jogged from the school, but didn't appear to be out of breath. Thorn gave him an appraising glance _No wonder this kid's approach was so noticeable_ She thought _The guy's friggin' huge! _  
  
He brushed a lock of dark hair from his sapphire eyes. "Sorry to bother you," He apologized "But I was sent here with a message for a Miss Thorn." His voice carried a strong foreign accent, Russian origins probably, but his English was very good.  
  
Thorn was more than a little surprised to be addressed in such a way, but she took it in stride. "It's just Thorn," She corrected him, "But yeah, that's me."  
  
"Professor Xavier has scheduled you an appointment with Dr. Gray on Wednesday at 6 pm." The kid said. He smiled when he recognized Rouge, who returned it with a wave.  
  
"Whoa now, what *kind* of appointment?" Thorn asked, alarmed.  
  
"Physicals; powers assessment, psychological statistics, stuff like that," Rouge supplemented, "We all have ta have one when we first come to the school."  
  
"Oh peachy," Thorn muttered rebelliously, "Why didn't anyone inform of this development a month ago? Bloody hell..." Her companions offered no explanation, nor did she expect any. She heaved a sigh and brushed her bangs away from her face. "Anything else we should know about?"  
  
"I was, um, also suppose to tell Mr. Logan that his classes are starting on Wednesday," The boy added. He seemed slightly nervous as he said this, though Thorn had to wonder how a kid that size could worry about anything.  
  
_Kid's got a thing for titles hasn't he?_ Logan noted.  
  
"Look kid, it's Logan, not--" He stopped, the full impact of the messenger's statement sinking in. "What classes?!"  
  
"Hey, I'm just the messenger..."  
  
"What *kind* of classes?!" Logan repeated in a deliberate tone.  
  
"Self-defense?" The teen offered meekly.  
  
Logan's mouth dropped open. He had never agreed to do those classes! Ohh, he was gonna have a nice, long, talk with the Professor later.  
  
The boy was giving Logan an apprehensive look, but Rogue barely seemed to notice. She distracted him with an offered greeting "Hey Peter," She said.  
  
"Hello Rogue," He replied. He glanced at Thorn as if waiting for her permission to return to the school. Thorn gave him an approving glance. What a gentleman...  
  
"You guys can head up to the school if you want," She said, "Oh, and thanks for the messages Peter."  
  
"You're welcome miss," He said with a smile, already beginning to walk away with Rogue by his side. Rouge said a brief farewell to Logan, who managed to smile before replying in kind.  
  
Thorn watched them leave, an unfamiliar fondness forming in her heart. She turned to see Logan frowning at their receding backs, absorbed in his own thoughts. She rolled her eyes.  
  
"What's wrong?" She queried, irritated.  
  
"Don't trust 'im." He muttered stubbornly. He flexed his fists reflectively. "Not with Marie."  
  
"Well, you won't have to worry about it, because Rogue's not interested in him." Thorn replied, turning her back on him to face her greenhouse.  
  
"She's not?"  
  
"Nope. She's dating some other kid." Thorn informed him. She hated handing out second-hand information, but this guy obviously had a bad case of big-brother protectiveness going on here. Too bad for Rogue; that wasn't the kind of relationship she wanted with Logan.  
  
"Not that Drake kid?" Logan's statement was more of a question, one he was really hoping he didn't know the answer to.  
  
"Yep."  
  
"If he hurts her I'll..."  
  
Thorn cut his tirade short. "You'll make idle threats and throw him around a bit. Whatever." She picked up a pair of hand clippers from the grass and threw them through the open door of the greenhouse. It was a neat shot, one made by someone experienced with blades, and landed with the metal blades imbedded in the dirt floor. "I'm just telling ya you won't have to worry. Bobby cares for Rogue and I think half the school would pound on him before you got there if he did something as stupid as that."  
  
"How do you know so much about it?" Logan inquired, wondering if there was more than meets the eye here.  
  
"Let's just say I've got an open mind and a sympathetic ear," She said with a small smile.  
  
_What the hell is *that* suppose to mean?_ He wondered crossly.  
  
Before Logan could spring any more questions, she raised a hand, palm forward.  
  
"Listen, I've got to run up to the school, but you're welcome to hang out here," She grinned insolently, "As long as you don't try to butcher any more plants."  
  
Logan stared in disbelief. She strode away from the garden before he could think of a suitable reply, her light laughter echoing in his ears.  
  
He gazed after her, her slim form moving quickly and silently across the sprawling lawn. She moved with a grace and smoothness he hadn't witnessed since he'd come here, with these city folks. A saying from long ago entered his mind unbidden.  
  
_"Child of the forest..."_  
  
Only then did it occur to him that Thorn hadn't flinched when she saw his claws. Hell, she had hardly even seemed to notice. Or care.  
  
Waking himself from his silent reverie, he recalled the original reason he'd entered the garden. Well, he was all alone and had been formally invited this time. He looked around before choosing a quiet spot beneath a cherry tree, as far from the flower garden as possible. He'd had enough of roses for one day.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Well, there ya go! I hope you liked it. Please, please, *please* review! Unless you're a writer, you have no idea how happy reviews make me (just ask Amy Potter 13 . . .every time I get a review, jump on her the next day in school . . .) I will gladly accept constructive criticism since I wish to be an author and I need to figure out my faults to get rid of them. Thanx so much! Oh and I will someone PLEASE inform me where I can get English to Russian translations and how to use italics, etc. in my story?  
  
Coming Soon: _A Lesson in Self-Defense_ 


	4. The Appointment

Disclaimer: I'm really hoping that I'm either gonna get the X-Men from Stan Lee and Jack Kirby for my birthday or find them in my Easter basket, but until then...I own diddly-squat. Daggumit. Anyway, I own Thorn, so don't take her or I'll sick Wulfe on you!!!!  
  
Author's Note: Sorry this chapters so short and it took so long, but my computer had viruses, my brother had projects, and I had homework. Not good combinations. I also realized that since X2 is coming out next month, there's not much reason for me to continue. I'd love to, but I guess I'll have to label this as an AU and hope to Gott in himmel that you people keep reading!!!! Well, this chapter's just an interlude and is short, but it ties into a future chapter. Continue on, read and review!! Thanx!!!  
  
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Thorn strode through the halls of the school, admiring the magnificent mansion in a detached sort of way. She was wearing her best outfit, which isn't saying much, but she thought she looked fairly decent. Her hair had been thoroughly washed and braided, making it look much nicer, and tamer, than usual. It wasn't that she was a dirty person really, it's just that she was much more comfortable with dirt than most people. She certainly didn't even attempt to look as immaculate as these people did.  
  
Thorn turned her head to glance out a passing window, causing her thick brown braid to swing and slap her lightly on the tan jacket she wore over her dark brown tank top. She thrust her hands into the pockets of her khaki pants, of which both legs were slitted to give them the appearance of flaring out over her sandaled feet. Most of her wardrobe consisted of tank tops, cutoffs, and shorts, and as far as she was concerned, that was good enough for her. She couldn't even recall the last time she had worn a dress.or maybe she just didn't want to remember that far back.  
  
Thorn quickly chased such thoughts from her head. She was on her way to an appointment with a psychic after all. Who knew what personal information she could 'accidentally' impart?  
  
She reached Jean's office quicker than she expected to. Thorn stared at the heavy oaken door, as if she wished she could see right through it. Of course, nothing happened and Thorn pushed the door open with a sigh.  
  
Really, she suspected that the real reason she'd been dreading this 'appointment' was because she hated shrinks. After The Accident, They'd made her see a whole bunch of 'em. Not that it had done her any good.  
  
In fact, she'd always found psychiatrists extremely irritating. Especially the way the docs had used all those psychological terms, like referring to things important with capital letters. The Accident. Them. Your Parents.  
  
Unfortunately, the terms had stuck, even after she had run away. Now, in the rare moments when she reflected on anything critical to her past, she thought in capitals. And if that wasn't annoying.  
  
Jean looked up from her desk as the door opened with a creak. A smile crossed her face. "Thorn!" She greeted, as though she was surprised to see the patient. Yeah. Right. Psychic, remember?  
  
Thorn replied in a similar fashion, albeit with a little less enthusiasm. She sat smoothly on one of the stuffed chairs facing the desk before Jean could ask her to lie on the couch. That was always humiliating.  
  
"So..." Jean said, her hands folded in front of her.  
  
"So...what?" Thorn inquired.  
  
"Let's talk about where you're from," Jean suggested.  
  
"What? Can't you just read my mind and figure it out?" Thorn said this with the utmost sweetness, though a smug smile crossed her face.  
  
Jean sighed "Thorn, neither the professor nor I will ever read your mind without permission. That's an invasion of privacy. Besides, I would much rather hear it from your lips than your thoughts," She explained wearily.  
  
Yet Jean understood there was a different side to what Thorn said; both she and the professor had done a brief mindscan when Thorn had first arrived and had received similar results. Entering her subconscious, they had found themselves in a setting straight from "the Secret Garden", complete with stone walls covered in ivy. Several doors were in the wall: one that led to her thoughts, another to her intelligence, and another to her memories. The door leading to her memories was blanketed completely with ivy and vines covered in thorns: an unbreachable barrier. Both psychics realized immediately that, despite this, they could trust Thorn and hadn't attempted a mindscan since then.  
  
"How's the rash coming?" Thorn inquired innocently.  
  
The small grudge Jean had held against the newcomer surfaced. There had been an incident after they had left the barn when Thorn had informed them that the curtain of vines covering the entrance to her barn was actually poison ivy. That had been Jean's first experience of bathing in Calamine oil. Not a pleasant experience.  
  
Jean sighed mentally. She'd gone through this before, with another patient, in another time.  
  
She recalled her first meeting with Thorn; she'd thought then that the strange, independent young woman had reminded her of someone. It wasn't until later, though, that Jean had realized who it was.  
  
None other than the fierce Wolverine.  
  
Jean changed her tactic, pulling her glasses from her nose and placing them with deliberate care on her desk.  
  
"Ok, listen Thorn." Jean said calmly "Don't play games with me. I know you think you're better than me, and for all I know, maybe you are. But I want to help you. We've helped you as well as we can this past month and I believe we've done a hell of a job. So just do me the courtesy of returning the favor, all right? Or is that too much of a challenge for you?"  
  
Thorn stared, surprised. Then, slowly, a genuine smile spread across her lips. "I never refuse a challenge," She replied, her voice filled with newfound respect.  
  
Jean returned the gesture, full of relief. "Thank you. Now...first of all, how old are you?"  
  
Though the question was a simple one, a look of concentration appeared on the patient's face. She silently calculated, ticking years and events off on her fingers.  
  
"I think...24...maybe 25," Thorn said uncertainly.  
  
"You don't know?" Jean queried, incredulously.  
  
"Well, I've been on my own since I was 13...I spent a year in the orphanage before I ran, then about 2 in the city, almost 5 around, and 5 at the barn." Thorn concluded.  
  
"Around?  
  
"Just...around," Thorn said, "You know..."  
  
"Not really," Jean admitted.  
  
"Ohhh...Kay..." Thorn murmured, "Like, I dunno...homeless, for lack of a better term. " Seeing Jean's raised eyebrow, she attempted to elaborate.  
  
"I mean, when you think of homelessness, you think, 'Oh, what a sad thing,' but I wasn't really like that...I was fine, almost happy. I learned a lot...I changed." She added. Jean wondered if that was a good thing or a bad thing.  
  
"Where are you from, anyway?" Jean asked her.  
  
"I'm not sure," Thorn confessed, " I kind of remember pieces of it, but I learned that it's better not to dwell on the past. So I forgot."  
  
"Do you remember your parents?" Jean inquired, even more confused by her subjects answers than she had been before the appointment.  
  
"Of course I do," Thorn responded irately "I did used to be a normal kid once, just like everyone else." Her eyes seemed to look past Jean, seeing a picture no one else could and her voice was vacant, as though she was very far away.  
  
"We lived in a big house, with a greenhouse built on the back. They were botanist, you know. They never hurt anyone, ever...they didn't deserve what they got..."  
  
She blinked, breaking the silent spell. Jean was startled, realizing she had been leaning forward, hanging on Thorn's every word. She found herself disappointed, knowing that Thorn wasn't ready to talk of her past to her, or anyone else for that matter. But there was no harm in trying, right?  
  
"How did your parents die Thorn?" Jean queried gently.  
  
But Thorn had suddenly become very interested in a painting hanging over Jean's left shoulder. She gestured to it. "Is that genuine?" She asked with utmost politeness.  
  
Jean heaved a sigh and settled her glasses back onto her nose. This was going to be a long day...  
  
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Dr Hank McCoy is...startling. I won't tell you he's scary because several other students have likened him to an enormous blue kitten. Not exactly an image to strike fear into one's heart. But the image of a huge, ape-like man with tiny spectacles does surprise you somewhat. No matter how cuddly he is.  
  
Thorn acknowledged the doctor with a cocked eyebrows and her slightly cynical smile. He nodded politely.  
  
"Today Miss...er...Thorn, we're going to be running a few tests." He informed her, studying her over his clipboard.  
  
"I don't like tests." Thorn replied sharply.  
  
"They're simple procedures, really, won't take long..." Hank started in a would-be-soothing voice.  
  
"I. Don't. Like. Tests."  
  
"Err...point taken. We'll simply postpone those examinations until further notice, shall we?" Hank quickly rifled through his papers. "Oh my stars and garters..." He murmured.  
  
"I believe...you're scheduled for the Danger Room," He told her.  
  
"Which is aptly named, I'm sure," Thorn muttered.  
  
Hank had grown slightly suspicious when Jean had seemed so eager to hand the patient over. Then he had met the woman whose temper was legendary, as was her tongue. Hank had to admit he was expecting quite a show, but surely Thorn was still too much of a novice to run these simulations?  
  
He led the young woman to the metal door appropriately labeled The Danger Room. "Don't panic," He advised her "It's a simulation; we can stop it whenever we like."  
  
In answer Thorn cracked her neck and fingers. "No prob Dr. McCoy." She shot him a fanatical, kamikaze grin and disappeared through the door. Hank shook his head and headed for the observation booth.  
  
This was going to be a long day...  
  
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So...is it any good? Please review and feed the starving imagination of my soul!!! Consider this...there is a possibility that if you don't review, my Chi will become unbalanced and I will go insane. Not a big loss...but still.  
  
Coming Soon: A Lesson in Self-Defense 


	5. A Lesson in SelfDefense

Disclaimer: Unfortunately for mine self, I do not own the aforementioned "X-Men", though I would greatly desire to do so. They belong to an inventive gentleman named "Stan Lee." I claim no thing, except for the lady Thorn. I also Do Not own the song "My Goddess"…it belongs to the Exies. Thank thee verra much.

Author's Note: I SAW X2!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT'S WICKED!!!! ::Ahem:: Well, like I said, go see it. Nightcrawler was awesome, but in my story Kurt will be based more heavily on the comic book character, 'cause he was even cooler.  I used the song "My Goddess" for this scene simply because I created the whole thing while I was listening to it, so I thought "Hey, give credit where credit is due." I hope you like this chapter…it's one of my favorites.

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Thorn strode briskly through the halls of the mansion, her former bad mood evaporated. Her talk with Jean had been surprisingly painless, if a little strained.  Plus, she had almost _enjoyed_ the Danger Room. She was a little tired from her exercise and had acquired a few war wounds besides, but she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She wanted action. 

Still reveling in her good humor, Thorn almost missed a sudden murmur of sound coming along the corridor. She paused to consider it, recognizing it as a human voice, one surprisingly familiar, but one she couldn't place. She followed it, adjusting her direction accordingly, and it grew louder, no longer a murmur, but a speech. Thorn's path led her straight to a door marked 'Gymnasium' and, even before she peered inside, she recognized the voice. 

Thorn leaned silently against the doorframe, fitting her long lanky frame to the shape of the wood. She raised an eyebrow wryly as she watched the kids and the speaker, only noticed by a few of the students.

"…I'm gonna teach you how to defend yourselves, and I'm gonna do it my way. This stuff can save your life, and if you're going to be an X-Man, one day it probably will." The speaker let his eyes stray over the kids, all of which were giving him apprehensive looks. 

"Today, I'll be showing you some examples of what you'll learn this year." The man paused, a somewhat intimidating grin on his face "Any volunteers?"

An awkward silence fell.

Wolverine tried to keep from smiling. He had these kids terrified.

"I'll be glad to volunteer," A cynical voice called, causing Logan to turn with surprise.

Logan had heard Thorn enter, but had been so busy with his students; he figured she was just a late kid, one that he could deal with later. He cursed inwardly, mostly at her and that infuriating smell. It confused him, being human, and yet plant at the same time. 

She walked toward him with long confident strides, removing her jacket and tossing it casually onto the floor. The kids backed out of her way obligingly as she stepped onto the mat, cracking her knuckles and neck, along with other various body parts. 

"Nice to see you again," She said as way of a greeting, that strange half-smile ghosting her lips.

"Always a pleasure," Logan agreed, returning the smile.

He sized her up, taking in her lean, muscled form and the even, smooth way she moved. She did the same to him.

__Short, but strong,__ She noticed __Moves well…definitely an experienced fighter._ _

They bowed politely to each other before beginning to circle their opponent with wary steps. Logan, aware that he was supposed to be teaching this class, kept up a running commentary.

"If you're not sure of your enemies' technique, if possible, don't make the first move," Logan said, eyeing Thorn and silently adding __Unless you see a vulnerable spot__. At the same time, he lunged at her.

Thorn sidestepped him neatly and delivered a punishing blow to his side. She finished his point for him. "And if you have to initiate the fight, make sure they're not baiting you first." 

Logan grunted in pain, but only seconds later, straightened up as if nothing had happened. Thorn kept her face neutral, but was thinking urgently, wondering how he had recovered so quickly from her punch. Her mind moved a mile a minute, recalling their first meeting and the claws she'd seen come from his knuckles. She'd assumed that was his power, but she also remembered the fact that he'd had no marks from his incident with the snowy rose. 

He had a healing power.

 Dammit. 

This could complicate things a bit. Thorn quickly adjusted her plan of attack. __'Kay, I'll have to hit him fast and hard. Can't force him down or wear him down, so I'll just have to get him off his feet, No biggie, right?__

Yeah. Right.

Neither of the adults were even thinking about teaching now and the silence was quickly filled when someone flipped the radio on. An edgy rock beat filled the air, rolling over the students and passing unheeded by the combatants. 

_"I was knee deep…In a sick love…_

_I was cross-eyed…One of your drugs…._

_Skitzo savior...Mad messiah…_

_Fatal worship… you inspire…"_

They were still circling each other as Thorn pulled back her arm, obviously readying herself to throw a punch. Logan moved to block her and was completely thrown when she stopped and, at the last minute, reversed her body weight to deliver a left kick to his gut. 

_"I don't believe in you now…I've seen too much…_

_I don't believe in you now…My goddess…"_

Logan doubled over, straightening up in time to receive a cuff underneath his ribcage. He strategically backed away, trying to allow himself time to recover, but to no avail. 

Thorn gave a follow-up kick to his right side, but he was ready. He caught her foot before it could connect with his abdomen and twisted it, trying to throw her to the ground. Thorn followed through with the momentum of the twist and twirled herself sideways in the air, bringing her left foot up to kick him in the face.

Instinctively, Logan let go of her, and she plummeted downward, barely managing to catch herself. Lying sideways, her hands and right foot supporting her, she swept her left leg behind his ankles in a wide arc that caused his knees to buckle. Logan crumpled to the floor. 

Thorn held herself evenly in a crouch before pushing herself to her feet. She brushed her hands off as she looked down at him. "Somehow, I was expecting more of a fight." She stated calmly. 

The kids were cheering now, amazed to see a woman who could beat the legendary Wolverine.

_"You were countin…on a free fall…_

_You laid your bet…I would lose all…"_

Logan shoved himself to his feet and bowed fiercely again. He wasn't going to stop now.

_"I don't believe in you now…I've seen too much…_

_I don't believe in you now…My goddess…"_

Thorn felt suddenly very nervous. This was what she was dreading: a rematch. She would tire much more quickly than he would and he, unfortunately for her, could heal. 

Great. Peachy frikkin' keen.

They stared at each other for a moment, emerald meeting ice. Then, at the same moment, they leaped forward, their fists flying. The kids could barely tell what was going on, since the adults' hands flew so fast. Fist met arm as they blocked each other, though they occasionally found their target in a face or a stomach.

Suddenly, Logan punched her across the face so hard she stumbled backwards and almost lost her footing. She spun herself sideways to avoid his next blow, trying to regain her balance. 

Still careening, she threw a somewhat sloppy chop at his neck, using the side of her hand to try and pinch his nerve. It was a good trick, but Wolverine had seen every trick in the book. 

Catching the hand, he braced his other hand against her shoulder, and using this as a pivot point, flipped her backwards over his shoulder. She twisted in midair, but not enough. 

All the breath left Thorn's body in a rush of air as she smacked into the mat. She hadn't managed to twist her body all the way around, so she landed awkwardly and painfully on her side. 

The students burst into cheers again, obviously hoping to be on the good side of the winner, and their teacher lapped it up, enjoying the attention perhaps alittle_ too_ much. Thorn pushed herself up and leaned on her elbows, glaring at him.

Wolverine turned to her and offered a hand. "Sorry about that darlin'," He said with an infuriating smile.

Thorn glared at him "Don't 'darlin' me, you overgrown weasel," She said heatedly. In one smooth movement she grabbed the proffered hand and yanked, hard, kicking him behind the knee at the same time. Caught off-guard, he fell forward onto his face. 

By the time Wolverine had flipped himself over, Thorn was already up and striding away, grabbing her discarded jacket and shrugging it on effortlessly. She stopped briefly to murmur to Rogue, and then she was gone. Logan could swear though, that she paused for an instant, turned, and winked. She _winked_!  

The song faded out, its last words marking themselves in Logan's brain.

_"I've seen too much…I don't believe in you…_

_My goddess…My goddess…"_

Logan pushed himself to his feet, and glanced around at the kids. They were quiet, but he knew they were probably laughing their asses off silently. One of Rogue's friends, some kid with a name like Joy, or Joyful or some hippie crap like that, raised her hand nervously. 

"What?" He asked a little harshly.

"So we're…" She raised an eyebrow, "Gonna learn how to do _that_?"

"You wish." He said critically "I'll be lucky if you learn how to throw a punch properly." He glanced at the clock at the wall. "Looks like this class is over…you guys can leave." There was a pause "At least until Monday."

A slight groan came from the students. Wolverine watched them leave, cracking his neck reflectively. 

Thorn was more than he had anticipated. One thing was certain…he could expect a lot from her.

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So…whaddya think? I'm gonna kind of label this an AU, since it's like an alternate X2. Woww…add a few more initials and we can make alphabet soup. Oh, and here's a shout-out to all my reviewers!!!

Maci Silverwulf~   Professor Logan…Art teacher. I thought that was hilarious. That and "Well, they've actually discovered that males carry the X gene, so I guess it's his fault."  Funny stuff, right there. Thanx so much for reading! Trust me, I'll keep writing.

Faith~ I guess you'll hafta wait to learn about her parents. Insert evil giggle I love being mysterious…

Pyromaniac~ Don't let bad reviews get you down! Oh, and could someone explain to me what a flame is exactly? Yes, I know I'm stupid, don't rub it in.

Crazy4lordofring~ I love you girl! I swear, everyone better thank her, 'cause she's the main reason I'm still posting…persistent little bugger. Yes, the painting was genuine, and I DESPISE tests.

Rayne~ Thank you! I'm glad you like Thorn too!

LauraLee~ Thanks for the help…I'll try that!

Victoria Wolf~ I updated!!!!! Spontaneous acts of appreciation would be appropriate

Webster~ I'm sorry about the swearing, I just think it's fitting for those types of characters. Wolverine doesn't go around saying "daggumit"…you know what I mean?

Amy P. and Virtuous Healer~ You aren't replying, but I love you guys anyway!!! Thank you for going to see X2 with me (not that you needed a lot of persuasion, or anything). 

Wellll…that's it for now. Coming soon…Remembering the Past

 


	6. Tramautized?

Disclaimer: **Sigh**…Yeah…this always makes me sad. This is the part where I hafta admit I own nothing, I'm nothing but a poor little peasent with a computer and  a mental problem. On the other hand, I get to say that I own Thorn and I'll kick your ass if you abduct her.  That's reassuring, but I really wish I owned Kurt though…

Author's Note: I was originally gonna post the next two chapters as one, but the posting bug bit me (Dammit…stupid little flea…**OUCH!)  so I's gonna post this now and, if my teacher's cooperate, I will post more soon! Oh, and I was so happy with all the replies I got! Keep it up and I'll keep it coming!**

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"Did you see her move?" An excited Jubilee asked her friends, dancing around them in her usual animated way.  Her beautiful dark hair hung loose, her almond dark eyes shining.  They, for once, returned her enthusiasm. 

"Yeah!" Kitty agreed, flinging her brown curly hair over one shoulder,  "That just shows you guys that women can really do anything men can. Even beat Wolverine." These last words were tinged with admiration.

"Technically, she didn't beat him," Bobby corrected. 

"You say what?!" 

"Well, she kicked his ass first, but then he took her down, so it was a tie." Bobby  explained, absentmindedly toying with the ice he was creating with his fingers. His blue eyes were furrowed a bit in concentration, and without realizing it, his blond curly hair became tinted by frost.

"Chauvinists." Kitty grumbled. But she didn't argue.

"So what exactly are we doing again?" An annoyed John asked, his dark eyes scowling. Well, he might not have been annoyed…it could just have been his naturally cheerful disposition. He flicked his lighter in a steady rhythm, much to the annoyance of his friends.

"Thorn told me to meet her in her garden," Rogue told them, for the second time, "Ah volunteered to help if she needed it."

"So why are you dragging us along again?" John muttered. Kitty elbowed him in the ribs and glared at him.

"Ah'm not draggin' you anywhere." Rogue said defensively. "Ya don't hafta come."

John had nothing to say to that. Truth be told, he had a soft spot for Rogue and when he talking to her, he would occasionally abandoned his icy exterior. Okay, maybe 'icy' is not the best term to use when describing someone named 'Pyro'…

The group of teens had reached the back doors by now, and left the school, laughing and talking. They made their way to the greenhouse, still discussing the finer points of their previous class.

Thorn was waiting, hands on her hips, in the garden, frowning a little at the vegetables. The vegetables actually seemed to be wilting beneath her intense gaze.

A smile graced her lips as she noticed them. She dropped one hand and let it hang at her side as she raised an eyebrow elegantly.

"Took your time, didn't you?" Thorn inquired with amusement. She saw Jubilee open her mouth in protest and she raised the hand at her side to silence her. "I'm just _kidding_." She said, laughing a bit. "Sorry, but you guys are gonna have to get used to my perverse sense of humor." 

"What's perverse mean?"

"Moving on!" Thorn declared, ignoring the innocent question purposefully. "You guys will be weeding my flower beds. Make sure you get _weeds_ and not my plants! By weeds, I mean thistles and dandelions, not roses and daisies. If you aren't sure, _don't touch it._ You got that?"

The kids nodded complacently. 

"Great. Throw them over in the compost pile there." She gestured to the decidedly ripe heap, concealed in a wooden structure. "I'll be in the greenhouse if ya need me." She smiled again and left them, a bit overwhelmed at the orders.

After a moment of silence, Bobby ventured to speak. 

"She's very good at barking out orders like that, isn't she?"

There was a silent, but unanimous agreement.

Thorn smiled slightly to herself as she walked through the greenhouse, running her fingers over her plants in a gentle caress. She'd never before regretted her mutant powers and she probably never would. Those powers had saved her life more than once, that was for certain. The union she shared with the plants…it was beyond words. She could hear their murmurs, feel their joy, experience their pain…

_ _Was it worth it, the pain?_ _ She wondered absently.****

**Yes_._**

The answer came, leaving her no doubt.  Her tough façade, the sarcastic exterior abandoned her, leaving her with the blind faith of a child. She'd never lost that, but in many ways, she'd never grown up. In other ways though, she'd had to grow up much too fast.

She fingered the small, worn cardboard box in her pocket. Memories swirled, unbidden, in the recesses of her mind, but she shoved them away roughly.

Thorn had reached her worktable and shelf in the back of the glass building. She stopped and her gaze traveled over the contents of the rough wooden slab. A trowel, a spade, fertilizer, a few pots…nothing much. Her emerald eyes moved upwards to consider the shelves that were loaded with tools and plants. Her hand carefully brushed away the fronds of a trailing fern to grasp a small pot. 

She brought the pot delicately to her chest, regarding it with eyes filled with an adoration usually reserved by children hugging a favorite blanket or stuffed toy.  Settling it in one hand, she dipped her hands into the vessel.

Slowly, a small, snake-like object unfurled, wrapping itself around her fingers. It was soon joined by a second vine, this time less hesitantly, as if greeting an old friend.  Thorn smiled and the vines grew, waving and reflecting her mood like a mirror. They twisted around her arms like twin serpents, but gentle and loving at the same time. 

"My oldest friends…" A soft wistful voice intoned. Thorn sighed and stood, the plants moving ceaselessly about her.

She could hear the kids' loud, arguing, voices and decided she better check on them to make sure no one had been frozen, or blown up, or impaled upon a stick or something.

Thorn smiled "Enjoy it while you still can." She advised them softly.

Bobby shook his head at his roommate. "I'm telling you man, being frozen to death is much worse than being burned to death." As if illustrating his point, he stretched out a finger and froze a thistle, then carefully shattered it.

"Yeah right." Pyro scoffed "Have you ever been burned to death?"

"Will you guys shut up already?" Kitty muttered, irritated. 

"Seriously." Rouge agreed. She was currently trying to grasp a pile of weeds without killing herself on the thorns. Bobby's serious expression softened and he took it from her and put it in the compost heap. She smiled shyly at him and he wrapped an arm around her waist, playfully spinning her around. 

Kitty watched them with fondness, while John glared sourly. Jubilee, wishing to distract her friends from Rouge and Bobby's private moment, spoke to John.

"Your just jealous of our wicked powers," She said, throwing a handful of "poofs" at him.

 He ducked and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. You caught me. I'd trade in my firepowers so I can create useless little fireworks and walk through walls. Whee." He deadpanned.

"Useless? Who you callin' useless bub?" Jubilee challenged.

"Bub?" Bobby asked, joining them, hand still resting comfortably around Rouge's waist. "You sound like Wolverine."

Rouge looked a little upset. "Will you guys call him Logan? His name's not Wolverine. That's what the doctors called him." This statement brought curious stares all around, but Bobby just tightened his arm reassuring. He understood she had lapses of memories from the personas she absorbed, something that was initially disturbing, but he was used to it by now. 

"Only if he'll let us," Kitty said meaningfully, and the others nodded in agreement. They didn't want to get on his bad side.

Pyro, obviously still mulling over something said earlier, directed a question at Jubilee "So…you guys think you've got better powers than us?"

Groans erupted from everyone.  "You've just _gotta_ be the best at everything, don't yah John?" Rogue said in exasperation.

"You have one major ego problem goin' on in that weird little head of yours Johnny-boy." Kitty muttered.

But Jubilee was not perturbed. "Yes, actually, I do. You got a problem with that?" She challenged.

"Sure do." John replied, giving them a rare smile, which was scarier than his scowl.

In an unspoken challenge, they stepped back, their friends clearing out of their way, protesting feebly.

"Will ya'll just knock it off?"

"Dammit John, we don't have time for this!"

"Thorn's gonna kill us…"

"Thorn?! What if _Logan_ catches us messing around?!"

This last comment brought more despairing moans, but the two mutants ignored them. Jubilee raised her hands and John did the same, flicking his lighter open. 

A sudden barrage of fireworks flew at John and he blocked them with a solid wall of flame. The flame reshaped itself into an image of the young Asian mutant, sticking her tongue out at his opponent. 

Jubilee ground her teeth together in anger. Her image suddenly raised a fiery palm and threw a ball of flame at her, John's way of mocking her power.

Jubilee threw herself into a forward roll, swearing silently as the flame scorched her hair.

The flame, of course, behaving according to Newton's Law, kept going until it hit something.

Namely Thorn's compost pile.

"Oh shit…" Jubilee murmured softly. 

Thorn chose that moment to leave her greenhouse.

For one, brief, but blessed moment, Thorn didn't see the accidental pyre. Then it was all she could see. 

Flames filled her vision and smoke claimed her nostrils. Screams and cries echoed dully in her ears as she ran…not fast enough…her neck...on fire. Sudden, lacerating pains split her back and her leg splintered…again…make it stop…__leave them alone__…

"LEAVE THEM ALONE!!!" The kids watched, terrified, as the woman fell to her knees, gripping her head with both hands. Bobby, belatedly, raised a hand and froze the flames. In his panic, he managed to freeze a tree and about everything that was within a twenty foot radius of the compost heap.

"Thorn!" A voice barked behind them. The kids spun around to see Logan race towards them, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

 "We don't know what happened…we didn't mean to…it was an accident…" Kitty's excuse ended in a whimper as she watched them.

 "Get back to the school…she'll be alright." Logan told them gruffly. Wanting to help, but clueless as to how, the teens turned away reluctantly.

Logan slid a shoulder under Thorn's arm and helped her to her feet, leading her inside the steaming glass house. She pushed him away from her and made her way unsteadily to the back, to her workbench. Logan, though uninvited, followed her, noticing for the first time the green vines that waved themselves agitatedly about her.

 "What was that back there?" He asked her softly. He didn't expect an answer and didn't get one. "You really scared those kids." What he was saying, they both knew, was that they both had been scared, but they were too proud to say it. He could smell the fear emanating off her.

 "I just…don't like fire much," Thorn said, a weak smile on her face. Not that Logan could see it, since her back was to him. She fished the small cardboard box from her pocket and rubbed her thumb across it, then absent-mindedly massaged her throat. 

The movement was not lost on Logan. He came up next to her, looking first at the box, then at her neck. She stared past him, unseeing.

The scar on her neck…he had noticed it the first time he met her…in the garden…it was a burn. 

 "What happened to you?" He asked in a gentle voice even he didn't know he could summon.

"I can't remember…" She answered; a statement he sensed was only half-true.

"I know the feeling." He replied. He watched her hand as she slid the box open. It was one of those old matchboxes that had a box inside a sheath, usually sliding out to reveal assorted matches.

Instead, it contained a picture, well-fingered and old, folded and curling a bit at the edges. A beautiful woman, smiling at the camera, had her hand on the shoulder of a kindly-looking man with graying hair. Between them stood a little girl with curly brown hair, a wide smile, and green eyes.

Thorn…she was so young, so happy. Bitterly, Logan wondered how old he had been when this picture was taken. 

On top of the picture were three seeds. Worn smooth by handling, they gleamed dully at him.

 "It's all I have left," She whispered "Besides these guys." She patted the vines reassuringly. They were going crazy, like they were frightened or something. Could plants possibly be able to remember, or were they reflecting how she felt at the memories?

 "I'm sorry…" Logan began, but Thorn turned her head away from him and snapped her hand, shutting the box.

"Well, thanks for stopping by Logan!" Thorn declared with fake cheer. "I had a great work-out at the gym today, but it wore me out, so I'll just catch a nap now, shall I?" Without waiting for a reply, she pushed him forcefully towards the door,

Logan stumbled, caught off guard, and left. He respected her privacy; he could relate to what she was going through.

Thorn shut the door behind him and leaned her back against it. She huddled over, raising her hands to cup her face, straining to hide the tears that leaked through her fingers.

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This could take awhile…..

Faith- lmao..I laughed pretty hard reading your review. Thanks for your enthusiasm! I'm glad you liked the song part, cause I was worried about that. Yes, Logan did need an ass-kicken. Keep up with your wicked story!

Crazy4lordofring- lol…I love you too. I hate choir…I hope "Hitler" dies…you know what I mean._ _Down with Hitler's School for the Gifted!!!!__

Reyns- Thanx for reading my story!

Dragon-denna- Oh my faithful fan, I give you more!

Exiesgoddess- *laughs* I agree…he's way too stuck on the Jean thing here. I'm glad you like the music!

Amy Potter 13- WHO YOU CALLIN' A FREAK?!?!?!? Just playin wit cha…don't forget I'm the one who introduced you to Logan!!! __Yes! The fuzzy man gets to go!!_ _LoL…I love that…

Keep replying peeps!  And if you haven't seen it yet, go see X2!!!!!

 


	7. Of Physicals and Dinner Conversations

Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men. Damn. And just when I was feeling pretty good…

Auther's Note: Whew!!! I had a great weekend, if a bit tiring. Thought I'd post a bit more, though I'm a bit preoccupied with my other story, an X2 one. It's gonna be great, so y'all better read it when it comes out! And, if you're bored, you can go check out my website. This chapter is pretty much an interlude, but I've got some action in the next chapter. Until then, fellow fans!!

Dedication: I dedicate this chapter to my awesome friend, crazy4lordofring. Thank you so much for reading this story chica!! Luv ya and frika frika forever (does 'the wrist').

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Logan paced down the corridor, confused and lost in thought. He couldn't forget the look in Thorn's eyes when she'd seen the fire…it was like looking at a caged animal.

He stopped for a moment. Something had been bothering him since he had seen the scar on her neck…only now did he understand why.

Logan set off quickly for the Professor's office.

"These results are amazing!" Hank told his audience with all the eagerness of a scientist. "From my observations in the Danger Room and the data we collected, we can see that Thorn is in very good physical condition. She beat most of the obstacles the Danger Room created, doing most of it without using her powers!"

"Though, like Hank said, Thorn's fit, her body is low on most of the nutrients found in wheat, dairy, and meat products." Jean continued, with much more composure, consulting a clipboard as she spoke.

"Why?"

Jean looked up to answer Scott's question. "When she was homeless, she rarely interacted with humans, and ate mostly the foods she grew. Though she could catch animals to eat, she said she wouldn't cook them."

"She couldn't start a fire?" Ororo guessed.

"No, she _could_, she just _wouldn't_." Jean explained, settling the clipboard on her lap and gazing about at her companions. "Thorn has one of the most extreme cases of pyrophobia I've ever seen."

"Has she told you why?" Xavier asked, concerned.

"That's just it!" Jean said, exasperated. "Thorn has selective amnesia, meaning in this case, that she probably had a traumatic experience in her youth that she chose to forgot, in an attempt continue to live normally."

She glanced at Hank, who took up where she left off. "We even found what we believe to be evidence to add to this theory," He told them, picking up a remote control and pressing a button. The screen on the wall lit up to reveal pictures of the subject from several angles.

 "She has an immense amount of scarring all over her body that is mostly, from what we can determine, from the same incident." He gestured to a picture of her back. "If you notice, the scars on her back are thin scars that all follow a pattern, similar to laceration. It's almost as though something hit her here…" He pointed to the middle of her back, where the scars spiraled outward from," And broke into pieces." 

He pressed another button and an x-ray of her left leg popped up. "And here…" Another gesture "We noticed that there is a deep scarring on her bone, most likely from a fracture she received at the same time that never fully healed."

"Lastly… " Hank said, and with another press of a button, a further picture clicked up. It was, oddly enough, a picture of her neck. "There are major burn scars on her neck."

"Wait, burn scars on her _neck_?!" Scott repeated, incredulous. "Wouldn't 'major' scarring be fatal?"

Hank shrugged helplessly "That is an inquiry to which we have not found an answer. Severe burns should've melted her windpipe, but she lived through it at the age of 13."

Jean stood and indicated the red area of Thorn's skin on the slide. "One of the strangest things about this burn is its shape." She hesitated, as though reluctant to tell them something outlandish. 

"Well?"

"It's in the shape of a hand," A gruff voice said behind them. All those gathered, with the exception of Xavier, turned to see Logan leaning in the doorway. He didn't seem to notice them though, as he was staring at the slide.

"Are you certain?" Ororo asked in disbelief. 

"Positive. I just saw it in the garden, though I didn't realize what it was right away." He explained, finding an empty chair, which happened to be Hank's, and seating himself. "She freaked out and had some kind of memory lapse when the kids set the garden on fire-"

"_The kids set the garden on fire?!_"

Logan continued, ignoring Scott's outburst. "She has a matchbox with a picture inside it of her parents. I smelled smoke on it."

Jean nodded and glanced at Hank. "The pieces are fitting together now…if I have your permission, Professor, to do a little research…?"

To their surprise, it was Storm who answered.

"No." They all looked at her in astonishment. "Thorn's past is her own concern. We should simply concern ourselves with her future." She caught a smile of approval from Xavier.

"Storm is right. Thorn doesn't need us prying her affairs uninvited," Xavier agreed. "If she wants our help, I'm sure she'll ask for it."

His former students each nodded complacently, but Logan was deep in thought.

__But what if she's too proud to ask?_ _

Thorn limped up the stairs into the school, cursing awkwardly with each step.

"Ouch…dammit…stupid…hell…die Wolverine…" She muttered heatedly, favoring her left leg. Her leg hadn't hurt this bad in over eight years…well, not counting that one bar fight in Manister…or that time she had jumped out of the train at Newark. Now that had been painful.

It was the day after Thorn and Wolverine's fight and Thorn was suffering from some severe soreness. While Logan, she knew, was probably friggin peachy. 

__Oh yeah Thorn, great idea. Let's volunteer to fight the man with the healing factor.__  She thought sarcastically.

Still muttering, she reached the dining hall. A moment before she entered, she paused and drew herself up to her full height, continuing on without a limp, despite the pain it caused her. Her pride had suffered enough already.

It didn't escape her notice either that several dozen eyes watched her as she entered the dining hall. __Wow…__ She thought __Word gets around fast here.__

She made her way up to the teacher's table that stood in the very front of the hall, perpendicular to the students. She found a seat waiting for her, next to Ororo, who sat at Xavier's left, and on the other side of a man she didn't know. Thorn noticed Logan sitting a couple of seats down the table, by a few adults she didn't recognize. 

Thorn sat with as much grace as she could muster and caught Xavier's eye. He smiled encouragingly at her. She smiled back, hesitantly, and greeted all the teachers, including Scott, who sat at Xavier's right, and Jean, who sat next to her fiancé. 

After a few announcements, they all started eating. As usual, it was some of the best food Thorn had ever eaten, and she relished each bite, listening to her companions' conversations rather than joining in. 

Thorn was just starting on her mashed potatoes when she felt someone elbow her in her side. A bit irritably, she turned to the offender, the blond man beside her. He was smoking a pipe and smiling widely. 

"Sorry ta bother ye lass," He said in a thick Irish accent, "But I couldn't help but notice that tha Canuck has been starin' at ye."

"I'm sorry?" Thorn inquired, confused by the strange pronunciations.

"The Canadian runt." The man explained, gesturing to Logan with his pipe. 

"Oh. Right. Him." Thorn said in a flat voice. She glanced down at the man in question and

 saw he wasn't even watching now; she was sure the Irish chap was mistaken.

The man laughed and Thorn found herself liking him already. "Sean Cassidy," He introduced, holding out a hand. 

She shook it. "I'm Thorn." She answered, "I'm a bit new here."

Sean laughed again. "You'll get used to mansion life in no time," He assured her. "Though from what I've heard, ye've been takin' care of yourself."

Thorn made an exasperated noise "Has everyone here heard about that?" She asked him.

He winked "Lucky for you, ye had tha biggest mouth in the whole school in yer class."

"Who?" Thorn asked warily.

"Jubilation Lee."

Thorn groaned. "That explains a lot." She muttered stormily. The blond man laughed again and Thorn couldn't help but notice that, though he was nearing 50, he had a beautiful, rich voice.

Out of the corner of her eye, Thorn saw Logan watching her. Okay…_that_ was a bit creepy.

"So Thorn, how has your stay been so far?" A polite voice inquired. 

Thorn transferred her attention to Scott and answered his question, keeping her voice neutral despite her tumultuous thoughts. 

"It's been great." __I think I'm becoming claustrophobic, surrounded by stone walls__

"I feel better than I have in months." __I hurt like hell, people are staring at me constantly, and I think I'm being stalked by a very dangerous man__

"I've been enjoying myself a lot." __Does Scott have any idea how girly his voice is?__

Thorn started, wondering where that last thought had come from. Scott, of course, had no idea what she was thinking and smiled. "That's great!" He said kindly.

__Whoa… he does.__

Xavier, meanwhile, looked a bit concerned. __Oops__ Thorn thought __Psychic eavesdropping.__

"Thorn, I believe that all mutants all have a special role to play, something special to teach to others." The Professor told her, steepling his fingers. "That's why I ask all the adult mutants to become teachers." 

Thorn stared at him, a look that clearly said 'what's this got to do with me?'

 "What I'm trying to say is that I want you to teach a class in our school."

Thorn was speechless. "I…I don't even have a full high school education! I can't teach anything!"

"On the contrary," Xavier said softly "I know something that you know more about than anyone else."

Thorn stared at him uncertainly "All I know about is plants," She told him in a soft voice.

"Exactly." He rewarded her with a smile. "I was hoping you would be willing to teach botany."

Another uncertain look. "Uh, sure?" She answered doubtfully. 

_I believe in you. I know you can do this._

Thorn jumped at the voice in her head. She glanced at Jean, who smiled encouragingly. Thorn took a deep breath and looked up at Xavier.

"Alright, I'll do it. On 2 conditions." She held up the respective fingers. "I can teach it in the old shed out on the grounds," Everyone knew what she was talking about. Unused, but large, and in good condition. She lowered one of the fingers before she continued. "And I can teach however I want."

"You have a deal." The Professor agreed. "Your classes start on the fifth."

Thorn considered this. __A week and a half. Easy enough_._

"If you're sure," She shrugged, wondering if they knew what they were in for. 

"Hey, no one gave me any warning," Logan protested mildly from his seat. 

"That's 'cause no one likes ye," A woman with a broad Scottish accent commented dryly from her place beside Sean. Everyone laughed and Logan smiled grudgingly.

Sean wrapped an arm around the woman. "Harsh but true Moira."

Thorn returned to her role as the subtle observer, watching these new people with a certain, detached fondness. It had been so long since she had gotten close to any humans, it felt…well…good. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Logan, watching her with something like concern. Suddenly, it wasn't creepy, that look. She understood now that he was worried, about yesterday, both the garden and the fight. 

__Why does he worry about me?__ 

'Cause that's what friends do.

The answer was a simple one, but left Thorn with an incredible, warm, fuzzy feeling. 

Friends.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alrighty then, here goes my thank yous:

Maci Silverwulf: I read the book too, so Jean's, er, accident, came as a bit of a surprise. (Me: Hell no, that ain't right! What a minute here!)

Faith: LOL…thank you! And your story bloody well rocks too!

Lady Circe: Yes! I;m glad you liked those lines…they were two of my favorites in the chapter. I always say peachy friggin keen at school…drives my friends crazy. As for the weasel thing…did you know the wolverine is a member of the weasel family?

Dragon-denna: as always, you give me another interesting review, Bit demanding, aren't ye?

Rebecca: Thank you so much for the advice! I've been trying to fix my grammer and I appreciate the help. Please continue to read and send in constructive critisism (which I value above all else)

Crazy4lordofring: per-verse: persisting in error or fault; stubbornly contrary. In other words, she has a morbid, weird sende of humor. Like me.

Amy Potter 13: Where are you? The angel of Death is waiting! LOL…

That' all folks! Tune in next time as the Thorn saga continues with:   Nightmares in the Dark.

 


	8. Author's Note: The show must go on!

Yeah, this is obviously not a chapter. Sorry. This is just a note to tell you guys (my faithful, wonderful fans—I love you guys!!) that I am continuing this story, but I'm having a rough time and I won't be posting for a while. I am sooo sorry. But don't worry, thanks to my wonderful reviews, I won't give up! I'm going to camp this week, so in about two weeks I'll write the next chapter. For a spoiler, I'll tell you that it is about Thorn's first class. Hee hee.

Thanks so much!! And I'm sorry this is so late, but I have another story too, an X:Evo/Harry Potter crossover, so things are hectic. 

And Faith, I don't know whether to be thankful you're so absorbed in my story, or scared. Erm…thanks anyway.

~Ezra Jade~


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